Live Free Or Nah, Just Live Free
by ShadowHatcher
Summary: Dean is turned into a Twilight-style vamp, and he is NOT happy about it.
1. Blame the Teenagers

In which Dean is turned into a (twilight style) vampire, and is NOT happy about it. Set pre season 8.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my computer.

AN: I'm using this story to brush up on my action writing, because I've been told it's not up to snuff. If you agree and especially if you have any constructive criticism, please feel free to shoot me a message.

* * *

"You awake, Sammy?" Dean yelled over the music, turning it down a bit so he could hear his little brother.

Sam groaned. "What?" He asked groggily.

"We've reached Washington. Port Angeles. The salt-n-burn Garth found, remember?"

"And why was it necessary to wake me up for this, exactly?" Sam asked, annoyed.

Dean shrugged, letting his brother doze off until he pulled into a typical mediocre establishment called the Red Lion Hotel, tires gliding into a too-small parking spot (if anyone dared to scratch his baby...) "You can go sleep, I'm gonna see what this city's got." He closed the door to the car gently.

Sam opened the side door, stretching languidly. "I'll get the bags if you check us in."

Dean held up a room key, "Already did, Sammy. See ya." He tossed both sets of keys –to the room and the impala – to Sam, who caught them with an annoyed expression.

"Fine. Jerk."

"Bitch."

Dean walked off with a smile on his face, whistling obnoxiously as he looked for a bar. A few giggling teenagers passed him, and he jumped to the side to avoid them hitting him. _Honestly, a little space_. He thought to himself, _what the hell happened to respect?_

Continuing his trek for a bar, he passed a creepy teen in some shiny new car, probably a volvo. The teen boy was staring at the group of girls he had just passed. Man this place is weird. Finally finding a proper drinking establishment, he happily wrote it off as not his problem, and grinned at the smell of alcohol and cheap leather. Perfect. There were some guys playing pool in the corner, so he got a beer and joined up.

Hustling pool always put him in a good mood, so maybe he wasn't noticing what he should have. All these guys were dressed similarly, and moved with a fluidity that he recognized from his own dynamic with Sam. They all knew exactly what the others were thinking, and didn't need to see them to know where they were.

By the time someone caught on to his scamming, after making about three hundred bucks, they were about ready to fry him. So he made his excuses and bolted outta there.

He passed some girly clothing store and a bookstore at a quick pace (maybe he should send Sammy here, he'd probably like it, he couldn't help but think) and turned a quick corner to lose any guys who may be following him. There was no way he was taking on that type of odds alone, even when they were all angry and possibly drunk.

They passed him, oblivious but fuming, and he walked agonizingly calmly away again, doubling back. Those stupid kids had put him out of the gaming mood, and he was tempted to go back to the what-was-it-called hotel again.

Of course, that was when he saw them congregate in the alley opposite the one he hid out in, surrounding some girl.

He groaned softly, realizing he'd have to go help her. He was the reason they were mad enough to go rob some poor girl, and if he didn't do something, who would?

Jogging over to the alley, he saw the girl freeze up at something they said. "Hey!" Dean said loudly, his fingers curling around the gun in his pocket, just in case. "We got a problem here?"

The one who looked like a leader sneered at him. "Yeah, we got a problem here. First, you cheat us outta our money, then you interrupt what's obviously none of your business?"

"Dude, I won that money fair and square, and you know it. Don't pick on some teenager just cause you're a sore loser."

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because all nine of them decided now was a good time to attack him. He whipped out his gun, and held it in front of them. They stopped abruptly, eyeing it wearily. Dean chuckled at their synchronization.

"You sure you wanna do that?" Dean smirked, sensing their apprehension.

"C'mon boys, what can an old man do to us?" The leader said, and they took all of five seconds to decide to crowd him at once, and Dean had about five knives on him before he knew it.

Five would have been easy to deal with. Punch to the chest, twist an arm back, turn the knife on the owner. Nine, though, that was a bit much.

Then they went for the girl, and Dean, idiot he was, had to rush in to defend her. One of the sons of bitches actually managed to stab him, sending blood spurting down his shirt. Letting pain overtake him, Dean doubled over, coughing.

The girl behind him seemed speechless, awkwardly shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"Are you gonna just stand there?" he choked out. "Run, goddammit!"

The girl looked at him worriedly, chewing on her lip. Something must've moved behind him because she screamed, and Dean whipped around to see the three dudes left coming back for her. Dean gritted his teeth and stood up straight, getting in front of the frozen chick, ready to defend against the hit he was sure would come.

Nothing. He looked up, and freaky-pale Volvo guy was there, apparently having taken down the guys he didn't get to in a split ten seconds.

"Edward!" The girl yelled, surprised.

Dean groaned. Great, why had he bothered when the girl had a stupid albino boyfriend? The boy, Edward, was breathing deeply, probably trying to calm his heart rate.

"Bella. Are you alright? You should get out of here before those guys wake up. I don't want you getting hurt." The boy said, pained. Dude, seriously? He just walked into a freaking real-life chick flick._ Don't mind the guy bleeding out over here, go ahead and have your heartfelt moment._

The guy apparently noticed him, because there was suddenly someone kneeling beside him. "Sir, are you ok?" He asked.

"Peachy." Dean choked out, bunching his jacket at his side, attempting to stem the blood flow.

"Edward, your dad's a doctor, right? Can you help him?" The girl asked frantically. Dean looked up at the boy, who looked like he'd faint at getting closer to blood.

"Nah, I'm fine, sweetheart. Lemme call Sam." He didn't bother explaining himself, just grabbed the blood-smeared phone from his pocket and pressed his speed dial. It rang out, and Dean remembered that Sam had fallen asleep. Stupid baby brother. He probably wouldn't realize it if a vampire walked into our room until it attacked him. When Sam zonked, he zonked good. Dean's head was swimming, and he couldn't focus on one thing for too long. The two figures swam in front of him, and the world was moving in a way it really shouldn't.

He had lost too much blood. Way more than he had lost in a good while, and he was pissed.

"Edward, help him!" Bella yelled.

Edward bent down towards Dean, trying to get a look at the knife wound. "Bella, get in the car and drive away. Those guys are going to wake up soon, and I can't help him and you at the same time." He tossed the keys her way, which she dropped. Typical.

Dean clenched his eyes shut. If the guy was gonna help him, could he do it already? Better yet, could he just drive him to that stupid motel and get Sammy to fix him up?

The Edward dude waited until Bella was clear out of sight before bending down to look at him.

"Do you want to live?" he asked randomly, but with a sense of urgency.

Dean couldn't help but think, _Hell yeah, I don't have to go back to heaven again. I'd like to live, thank you!_ "What the hell, man? Of course I wanna live! Do you actually know anything about knife wounds, or are you gonna call an ambulance?"

The boy stared past him, and spoke quietly, "You've lost too much blood. But I think... there's one thing I could do, and you'd be better in about three days."

"Well damn well do it, then!"

Edward looked to be preparing himself for something. "Alright. But where's Sammy? Does he know about vampires like you do?"

_What? Zonked at the hotel. Yeah, of course he knows about vamps. I taught him everything he knows. But how does this guy -_

Dean stopped abruptly. The kid freaking bit him. He bit into Dean's arm, neck, arm – Dean tried to shove the dude off him, but he wouldn't budge.

"Why do you want to know about Sam? What are you? What have you done to me!?" Dean got progressively louder, and suddenly a white-hot pain was creeping through him.

"I've turned you into a vampire." The boy said sadly. "It was the only way to save you, and you agreed."

Dean shook his head, standing up despite the pain. "Dude, I don't know what you think you are, but you're no vamp. And I don't care what you are, but if you think I want to join your little monster mash then you've got something else coming!"

The boy looked incredulous, just standing there like an idiot. "How are you still standing?"

"What?" he snapped, somewhat confused. Whatever the monster had done to him had started to sting like a bitch.

"How are you still up? How are you not in pain right now?" Edward continued.

Dean snarled, "Whatever magic you worked on me is stinging just fine, thanks. If you don't mind, I'm going to chop your head off." Dean grabbed the knife from the gang kids with some difficulty, but he'd felt way worse pain in Hell. And if this guy thought he was a vamp, then Dean was going to kill him like a vamp. He went from the side, the small knife lined up perfectly with the base of his scrawny neck. The knife bounced off. Freaking bounced.

"That won't work." The thing said calmly. "your heart's still beating. You're not nearly strong enough to dismember me."

Dean gaped. "Dude, what in the hell are you? Give me one good reason not to rip your throat out."

"I told you. I'm a vampire. I know you know about vampires, I read it from your mind." The boy looked slightly panicked, now.

_Dear god he's a telepath. Wait, Sammy_! Dean thought, the Red Lion Hotel swimming in his slightly pain-addled brain before he could stop it. "If you even attempt to go after my brother, you stinking fucker, I swear I'll kill you."

"Dean, I know you're confused. But you seem to be holding up okay with the pain, so I can bring you back to your Sam one last time before you're a danger to him."

Dean growled. "I will never be a danger to Sam. Now you get outta my way or I'll make you."

The stupid monster kid stepped aside, sighing, and Dean bolted for the street. He tucked the knife into his jacket and zipped it up, hiding the weapons and bloodstains. Oddly enough, whatever the douche had done to him had closed the wound, and besides the drying blood still on his skin and clothes, no one would have been able to tell he was injured.

He took a painful jog back to the hotel, moving faster than he thought because soon enough he was in front of their door. He took his own, also bloodstained room key and slammed the door open.

"Sammy? Sam!" He yelled, frantically shaking his brother awake.

Sam bolted awake. "Dude, whats wrong?"

Dean took a deep breath and unzipped his jacket. "Some dudes were picking on a kid in an ally. For some reason, I had to step in. Then this dude that thought he was a vampire came in and freaking bit me, and the knife wound healed but it stings like a bitch."

Sam's expression changed from worried to relieved to freaked, and immediately stood up to get a look at the bite marks.

"I don't know what to do, Dean. If he's some sort of creature that could inject venom into you, you could be dying, or just healing. Unless we know his true motives we can't tell what's going to happen."

Dean winced at a new influx of pain, and his knees buckled. "Whoa, man."

Sam d sat on the bed, hunched over. "Sammy, whatever crap this guy gave me, we need to get it out. And fast. I think it's trying to infect me."

Sam nodded. "So we're looking for some kind of... Detox, something to get it outta your bloodstream." Dean groaned, anticipating his next words "I need to research.

"Batcave?"

"Batave."

Needless to say, Sam drove.


	2. They Sparkle

AN: Hey guys! I apologize for the mostly sporadic updating that will probably continue. Also, happy birthday to Readersgotswagg, who convinced me to write more of this!

For everyone who has read the last chapter earlier, I changed the time frame. It's now taking place post-season 8, so Bobby will be taken out of it. Sorry Bobby fans, I love him too.

* * *

After Hell, after Purgatory, Dean thought nothing on earth could compare to the pain he had felt. Apparently he was wrong. Or maybe after a year of Purgatory he was going soft. Either way, Sam wouldn't be mentioning to Cas or Kevin (and especially not Crowley) that Dean spent the whole two days of driving back to Men of Letters headquarters curled up next to Sam on the soft leather of the front seat.

It was a worried Sam that juggled the key and most of Dean's weight through the door of the Batcave, the third morning of Dean's sickness. "Garth! Kevin, A little help!" Sam yelled as his increasingly heavy brother weighed down on him.

Kevin came in first, hair mussed from sleep. "What's wrong, Sam- whoa, Dean! Are you ok?" Not waiting for a response, Kevin rushed to support the older man's practically dead weight.

"Something bit him, Kevin. We need to figure out what so we can cure him." Sam said lowly, trying not to let Dean hear.

Dean made a sound between a groan and a growl, slowly taking back his own weight at the sight of new company. "It was a freaking teenager. He - " Dean paused, stumbling to the head seat of the command table. "He said he was some sort of vamp, though obviously he wasn't. This girl..." he breathed in deeply, face an impassive mask. "She was practically drooling all over him. He was super pale, had almost yellow irises…" He trailed off and shook his head.

"Hey guys, what's up? I hope you're happy that I got both Castiel and Crowley to go to sleep finally, they're still not on a..." Garth stopped abruptly. "Um, did something happen while you guys were taking care of my salt-n-burn?"

Dean whipped around at the new noise. "I don't think that was a salt-n-burn, Garth." Sam answered for the two of them.

"Well then what was it?"

"We don't know yet." Dean ground out, eyes shut tightly. "Anyone up for a little research? I might be incapacitated for a bit." The whatever-it-was coursed through his veins like a white hot sword, seeming to cut up whatever it

Sam nodded, and looked to the two others. "We'll work on it, Dean. I don't know what's gonna happen, but we'll work it out, hopefully in time.

Dean paled. "Time! That freaky pale dude said he would make me heal in three days. I bet whatever it was will be finished by then."

"Well how much time do we have left?" Kevin asked.

Dean counted on his fingers, muttering, "Probably seven hours. Maybe less."

Sam asked, "Do you think that we can still help you after that?"

"Creepy eyes thought no, but he also thought he was a vamp. So I'll give it a hard maybe." He winced and, unceremoniously, dropped to the floor.

* * *

"Dean? Dean!" Someone was shaking him. Dean figured he'd never really fallen asleep, just drifted in and out of pain filled consciousness. Somehow, he felt just fine now. More than fine. Perfect.

He felt perfect, and he couldn't decide if that was a problem. "Sammy?" He spoke, eyes still closed.

"Yeah. Hey, Crowley and Cas think they know what you've been injected with! Crowley said that it was a matter of seeing it for himself, but I didn't want him to come in here while you were sleeping."

Crowley. Of course it would be Crowley, Dean mused. The demon had gone through quite a big change in the last months. First, the pure human blood Sammy had given him, caused him to regain his human emotions, while still holding all of his demonic (and witch, apparently) powers.

Dean remembered Garth showing up with Cas in tow, one day, completely freaking out at the sight of the ex-King. His reaction, however it amused him, was nothing like Kevin's. When the kid realized that the guy who tortured him over and over was being invited into their home, like some stray dog, he blew up, and initially refused to stay with them. Kevin cooled off when he realized how much knowledge an amenable Crowley could divulge, and by drilling the demon and the Men of Letters library, had reasserted himself as a workaholic AP student, this time studying the supernatural.

They made a warped kind of family, Dean realized. They took turns hunting and trying to avoid the many angels trapped on earth, and it was far from the first time someone came home injured seemingly beyond repair. Having a somewhat-angel and an almost-demon on hold could do that. He just hoped whatever had been done to him was as easily reversible.

Dean opened his eyes. "Dude. Whatever the… whatever it is did, it sure wacked out my sight." He jumped off his bed with an ease he hadn't felt since Cas remade his body. "How long was I out?"

Sam didn't answer. He gaped at his brother blankly, uncomprehendingly. Dean looked at him quizzically. "Five hours. You've been out five hours."

"Really? Felt like longer. Doesn't matter, let's go see Crowley." Dean said quickly, immediately rushing out the door and, before he knew it, he was at the control table, waiting for someone to notice him.

"Dean." Crowley said without looking up. Kevin and Cas, who were sitting in the library, whipped their heads around to see him. "I was right." He grinned slightly, turning to an unamused Castiel.

"He's an incubus?" Kevin gasped.

"Wait, wait, hold on. A what?" Dean furrowed his brow.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "He's a type of incubus. Not the demonic kind, but it travels by injecting venom into a victim. Apparently most of these incubi and succubi think they're vampires, holding little contact with the Supernatural world and living off of human blood."

Dean growled, low in his throat. Cas looked up from his current book, confused. "I was under the impression that an incubus lived upon sexual intercourse."

"Yes, they're supposed to."

"Seriously? You make me think that I have to drink blood, when really all I need to do is get laid? Come on, man. That's way different." Dean ran a hand through his hair and leaned against a bookshelf.

"As I was saying," Crowley continued, "they're supposed to live off of sex. The reality, however, is that all of them use blood as a supplement. It has the side effect of keeping their eyes red. The more blood you take in, the more it's reflected in their eyes. Windows to the soul and all that. Yes, you have your soul," Crowley cut in when Dean looked up hopefully. "Basically the more blood they drink the less they could feel physically. Some of them just wasted away, sitting on chairs for hundreds of years. Oh and you should know." He paused to grin, a grin that Dean decided could not mean bad news. "Another side effect of drinking blood is that the sunlight. Well," He chuckled.

Kevin urged him, "What does the sunlight do?"

"It makes them sparkle."

Dean groaned.


End file.
